


Thorns and Roses

by adamprrishcycle



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dubious Consent, Grinding, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7303243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamprrishcycle/pseuds/adamprrishcycle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kavinsky opened the door, he had been expecting Lynch, but it was Parrish who stood before him on the front porch.</p>
<p>“You’re early,” he sneered.</p>
<p>Parrish looked down at the shitty watch on his wrist and said: “No I’m not. Ronan’s just late.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thorns and Roses

When Kavinsky opened the door, he had been expecting Lynch, but it was Parrish who stood before him on the front porch.

“You’re early,” he sneered.

Parrish looked down at the shitty watch on his wrist and said: “No I’m not. Ronan’s just late.”

Kavinsky didn’t bother to invite him in, he just turned and headed down the hall, knowing Parrish would follow. He went downstairs to the basement where the TV was showing some reruns of an old sitcom that Prokopenko loved. He quickly turned it off and the silence became a presence. Lynch was usually here with them. They didn’t work without him.

“Want a drink?” Kavinsky asked and Parrish nodded, approaching the bar to serve himself. He chose a bottle of rum and poured it into three glasses.

“What d'ya thinks holding him up?” He asked and Kavinsky shrugged.

“The fuck if I know,” he said.

Parrish looked around the room as he sat down on a leather couch. Kavinsky didn’t like the look on his face.

“Good enough for ya?” He asked. It grated on him that Parrish had fuck all yet still managed to be a stuck-up, judgemental bastard.

He scowled up at him and took a gulp of his drink. This whole situation was unbearable. Where the fuck was Lynch when you actually needed him?

“Look,” Kavinsky started. “I’ve got piss all to say to you, so do you wanna do something while we wait or what?”

Parrish drank some more from his glass and got to his feet, walking back over to the bar and placing his drink down. Then he turned to Kavinsky and said: “go on then.”

Kavinsky stepped towards him and pinned him against the bar with possessive hands on his hips. He had no time for Parrish unless it was like this. Then he kissed him, biting his lip just the way he liked it. He leaned into him, pressing him backwards as he put his hands under the material of his t-shirt, digging his fingers into the skin at his waist.

The feel of Parrish’s body and the sensation that came with his hot mouth wasn’t unfamiliar to Kavinsky, but Lynch was usually here. Parrish would be kissing him, but Lynch would be touching him or whispering in his ear and that was all Kavinsky was really focusing on.

This was just Parrish. Just him and Parrish.

He opened his eyes and found Parrish staring back at him and it was too much. He pulled away from him and, with his hands still on his hips, he turned him around, shoving him up against the bar.

“Easy,” Parrish said, breathless with surprise. Kavinsky pressed against him so they were stomach to back, then reached around him, bringing his hand up to wrap his fingers lightly around his throat while he kissed his jawline.

Parrish pushed back a little, his ass against Kavinsky’s crotch and it felt fucking amazing.

“Go on,” Parrish said, “keep going like that.”

Kavinsky continued to grind up against him and kissed at the back of his neck. He wanted more. He dropped his hands to the waistband of Parrish’s pants and started to pull at them, but Parrish stopped him.

He twisted around to look at him. “Don’t you wanna wait for Lynch? He’d want to watch,” he said.

“Maybe he’ll be lucky enough to walk in on it,” Kavinsky said and he started to pull at Parrish’s waistband again.

“Let me blow you instead,” Parrish said and Kavinsky stopped what he was doing.

“What’s your problem? Too proud to take it up the ass?” He demanded, hissing the words into his ear while he pressed him more insistently against the bar.

“My offer’s about to expire,” Parrish said and Kavinsky lifted one hand to hold him round the throat again.

“I’ll have whatever I want,” he said, his voice low and menacing. He felt the way Parrish tensed up. Lynch was the opposite, he would fall apart at words like this. Kavinsky couldn’t decide which reaction he liked more.

“Get off me,” Parrish said stiffly just as the sound of the front door opening and closing again drifted down the stairs. Kavinsky wasn’t sure what would have happened if Lynch hadn’t arrived at that particular moment, but he didn’t dwell on it. He moved away from Parrish and faced the stairs as Lynch appeared.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Well I’m here now,” Lynch replied and went straight to the bar and drank a glass of rum in three swallows. “Alright, Parrish,” he said casually, but Kavinsky saw through it. Lynch was so desperate for him, it was embarrassing to watch.

Kavinsky walked right over to him and kissed him hard and he reacted immediately, grabbing his waist.

“God,” Lynch gasped. “How are you that hard already?”

Kavinsky smirked and stole another kiss. “Parrish isn’t just here to look pretty, believe it or not.”

“Did you…? Without me?” Lynch asked and he sounded so much like a spoilt brat that Kavinsky had to kiss him again.

“Nah, babe,” he said, then he led him across the room and pushed him down into one of the home cinema chairs. He looked over to see that Parrish was pouring himself another drink. If it was entirely up to him, he’d have Lynch to himself. He only tolerated Parrish being here because of what it did to him.

He knelt down in front of Lynch and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

“What you feeling like tonight, princess?” He asked.

“An easy fuck,” Lynch said with a smirk and Kavinsky slapped him. It wasn’t hard though and it made Lynch smile even more.

Parrish came to stand behind the chair and he leaned forwards and brushed his lips along Lynch’s cheekbone, making his eyelids flutter closed. Kavinsky reached forwards and ran his hand up his shirt, tracing over his stomach.

The only thing Kavinsky had in common with Parrish was this. Kissing Lynch, touching him, teasing him, taking him right to the edge where his movements were sloppy and his voice was hoarse.

Parrish pulled his t-shirt off him and Kavinsky leaned forwards between his legs so that he could kiss his stomach. He bit him and he gasped. When he looked up to see his expression, his head was tilted back and Parrish was kissing him.

Kavinsky wanted his attention back so he lowered his hand and pressed it against the shape of his cock. Lynch stopped kissing Parrish abruptly and looked down at him. He was so fucking sensitive, it was amazing.

“God, K,” he said as Kavinsky continued to rub harder. Parrish came round to Kavinsky’s side and knelt beside him, leaning in and Kavinsky turned his head to kiss him. Parrish was one of the best kissers he’d ever experienced, and he’d experienced a lot. He was confident and knew when to give and when to take. With Lynch it was all take. Kavinsky preferred that.

“You look so good together like that,” Lynch said and after a moment longer they parted.

Kavinsky turned back towards him and didn’t spare another minute, undoing his belt for him and pulling his jeans down to his ankles.

“Ronan,” Parrish breathed and he sat on the chair beside him, sliding a hand up the inside of his thigh. It sent a shiver down Kavinsky’s spine so he could only imagine what it did to Lynch. He reached up and slid his boxers down and Parrish took hold of his dick, moving his hand up and down slowly.

“Fuck,” Lynch said softly. “Jesus- _fuck._ ”

Then Parrish’s head fell to his lap and he was shamelessly blowing him. Kavinsky reached out and placed his hand on the back of Parrish’s head, holding him for a few seconds each time he took Lynch all the way to the back of his throat. He gagged a few times and something that Kavinsky couldn’t decide was spit or pre cum dribbled down his chin. Regardless, he wiped it away with a finger which he then brought to Lynch’s mouth and had him suck on.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said, though he could already guess by the sounds Lynch was making.

“Sofuckingood,” Lynch mumbled, his head thrown back, then, “does it look good?”

“You look fucking sexy as hell, babe,” Kavinsky answered. “And Parrish looks good too, deep throating you like the little whore he is.”

He moved to run his hand down Parrish’s back and over his ass and in response, Parrish groaned deep and low in the back of his throat. Lynch whimpered at the vibration.

“Adam- God. Don’t stop,” he said, breathless and needy.

Kavinsky touched himself over his pants as he watched and when Lynch noticed, he swore and bit at his bottom lip, eyes locked on what Kavinsky’s hands were doing.

When he came, he didn’t warn Parrish so he rocked back suddenly, losing some of it down his chin. Kavinsky leaned over and kissed him, tasting Lynch as he dragged his bottom lip up over his chin. He pulled away again because the post orgasm noises Lynch was making; soft shuddering moans, was getting to be too much.

“Well done, fucker, poor Parrish nearly choked,” he said and he kissed him. He pulled away to let Parrish at him.

“Can you taste yourself?” He asked him and they kissed for a long time, Parrish straddling Lynch’s lap. Kavinsky started to get impatient. This always fucking happened.

He knew there was no point getting into a fight about it again. It made him look desperate and pathetic and he couldn’t afford to come across that way. He got up and went upstairs. Lynch didn’t try and stop him.

He got himself off in the bathroom alone, picturing Lynch naked and shuddering, then he did a line of coke off the back of the toilet, ran a bath that scalded his skin and lay in it until he fell asleep.

Hours later when he woke up, Parrish and Lynch had gone.


End file.
